


maybe we found love

by pallasjoanna



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Exes, F/M, Mutual Pining, WIP, with a bit of plot on the side
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-08
Updated: 2015-02-11
Packaged: 2018-03-11 00:41:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3309302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pallasjoanna/pseuds/pallasjoanna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She had enough problems without a certain elven apostate mage who broke her heart suddenly walking back into her life. Lavellan, Solas, and the realization that maybe three years aren't enough to let the cracks line up and heal.</p><p>(Or just pining. A lot of it.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Her bum was really starting to get sore sitting on the throne. The circlet was also starting to dig painfully into her ears, and there was nothing more Ellana wanted to do than to run back to her chambers to throw it out of Skyhold.

Except perhaps, throwing it at this pathetic _shem_ right in front of her. Creators, was he done yet?

“—Therefore, I must ask you, my lady, to consider sending forth an Exalted March on the alienages and the Dalish. These past several months have proved that they are spreading forth their heresy--”

That’s it. Josephine can lecture her later about this noble’s titles. She digs her nails hard into the armrest, if only to stop herself from accidentally shooting lightning at the fool. “And as I have said, you have failed to produce proof severe enough to warrant the March you ask for,” she snaps. “Investigation into these _unrests_ and _insurrections_ you speak of has revealed that in the instances when the elves resorted to violence, they were clearly provoked and or resorting to self-defense.”

“And what about the whispers that they are spreading, Inquisitor? Surely, a threat to the people’s faith is severe enough indeed—“

Ellana cuts him off again. “If your faith is as strong as you make it out to be, then you shouldn’t be bothered by the elves’ whispers about their own gods. For now, that ends this matter.”

She’s glad when even Josephine just nods curtly to him. “The Inquisition will not be entertaining any future requests for an Exalted March until circumstances dictate otherwise,” the ambassador summarizes, noting it down with a flourish.

The noble’s face turns an almost vivid shade of purple at the clear dismissal. “The Inquisition forgets that it has a duty to the Chantry!” he spits. “The Divine will hear about this!”

“And the Chantry has a duty to everyone.” Despite the fury ringing through her head, she forces herself to take a deep breath as she stands to address the crowd. “That includes humans, elves, dwarves and qunari. Therefore, let me make this clear to all of you: the Inquisition serves the people, and not those who think of themselves as the only people.

“So let me repeat what Lady Montilyet said—“ Ellana continues, finally recalling the dirt her spymaster had dug up on him not too long ago. “The Inquisition will not be entertaining any further requests for an Exalted March, and if you insist any more, I assure you, you will be hearing from Marquise Briala about your poor attempt to seize the lands occupied by the alienages and possibly the Dales.”

She’s only partly satisfied when she sees the noble slightly shaking in front of her.

Everyone’s eyes bore into her, as they always have for three years now. She sits back down, this time only addressing the man. “Dismissed,” she finally says, and he doesn’t put up any resistance when the guards escort him out of the hall.

When Josephine approaches her after the hall recovers from its deathly silence, she decides to preempt her instead. “I know, I know. I should have handled it better.”

But even with another chance to do the proceedings all over again, Ellana would have still done the same thing. She stomps down on the mixture of fear and raging anger that rises in her throat. Creators, an Exalted March? And he had the guts to ask that of _her_? That was the one thing she could never allow to happen to her people. Not over her cold, dead body.

Josephine lightly touches her arm. “You don’t have to worry about it. The man was a fool and most of the hall knew it.”

“Most?”

“There will always be at least two kinds of people.”

And the thing is, Ellana knows that it wasn’t just an out-of-the-blue demand motivated by personal greed. Tensions have been rising between humans and elves in Thedas during the past three years. At one point, every one of the elves had started having strange and similar dreams (including her, and dreams of howling and whispering voices weren’t pleasant to say the least). Some of the Dalish clans said that it was a sign that their gods were coming back. That wasn’t how the problem started. Neither was it when even some of the city elves started to say it.

No, it started with fear.

Ellana drags a hand over her face.

“It seems we have another petitioner, Inquisitor.”

“Let them be addressed,” she replies, sighing as she leans back against the throne.

A figure in a hooded black cloak strode the length of the hall. She could see the guards tense up in wariness, but they already know that she would not turn anyone away from the Inquisition before they had a chance to speak, a fact that gave Cullen and Tabris a headache in trying to keep assassins off her. The petitioner was clearly an elf, and they walked with a wolfish gait, one that reminded her of the hunters in her clan, or of—

Her heart drops to her feet.

She knows the tone and inflections of his voice even before he speaks, and it’s strange that she remembers that when time has dulled all other memories of him. He pushes his hood back, allowing his blue-gray eyes to meet hers, steely and calm and polite.

“Good day to you, Inquisitor,” Solas greets, with all the distance of the last three years.

She can’t see the warmth in them from up on her throne, so even with the suddenness of it all, she matches his mask with her own.


	2. Chapter 2

In the years he had been away from the Inquisition, he kept track of the activities of the world through the Fade. Most spirits did not bother to care, but some were happily vocal in their opinions. Occasionally, dreams alone could offer him a glimpse, if not as much.

Solas knows the risks of the choice he makes now. It was not one of his easier decisions, but there were two facts he could not deny: one, he still had not regained the power he had lost from _uthenera_ and therefore the power to free his kin despite his efforts so far, so second, he required help.

There was no denying that the Inquisition could provide that.

He took precaution. He steeled himself for the inevitable entanglement that could result if ever the Inquisition would welcome him again. Hardened his heart to a cutting edge.

But here, now—

He was well aware of the efforts both the former and the present spymasters took to find him, as well of the pains he took to evade their notice. It was too much of an effort put in just to look for an apostate who disappeared. At the very least, he knows the Inquisition has a lot of questions for him.

The guards escorting him towards the War Room is something he expects following that. They did not restrain him, nor take his staff, and those facts help him relax and point to one thing that has haunted him for some time now.

Whatever has happened in the last three years, Ellana Lavellan had still not discovered the truth.

It gives him a small amount of relief, and a weightier burden of guilt.

The new spymaster briefly looks at him as she pushes the doors open. There’s a rustle of activity as the commander drapes what looks like a curtain over the central table and as Lady Montilyet hurriedly turns all remaining papers facedown before they resume composure, standing on one side of the table with him on the other.

And by the window, slowly turning her head to face him, is the Inquisitor. She holds his stare for a few breaths with an uncharacteristically cold look of her own.

Not for the first time, he wonders how much has changed.

“I was half-expecting that you would turn up eventually,” the spymaster starts, and she gives a slight bow of introduction. “Since you know everyone here already except for me, and vice-versa, you may call me Tabris.”

Solas nods. It is a small surprise that an elf has joined the Inquisitor’s advisers. “A pleasure to meet you. I must wonder however, how much has the former spymaster told you?”

“What do you think?” Tabris replies with a smile that does not reach her eyes. She moves naturally, but still with the intent of giving nothing away. Leliana must have chosen well.

“Enough with the pleasantries,” Cullen snaps. “What I’d like to know is how you managed to avoid the notice of our guards and scouts well enough to show up at Skyhold undetected.”

“Or for that matter, Solas, why you came to Skyhold now in the first place,” Josephine adds, then coughs lightly. “Inquisitor?”

She moves from by the window to stand with her advisers. “Josephine has a good point,” she says slowly. “You’ve evaded us for three years. Why did you decide to come here now?”

Ah, here is the part Solas has to play carefully. He cannot not reveal the truth of his plan so soon, but he cannot also make them cooperate without enough of it. Omission and revelation in equal measure, so he simply says at first, “You need my help.”

Cullen lightly snorts. “I’m impressed by your daring at least. There’s a lot of questions you’ve left unanswered, and whose truths could be quite damning.”

“He did come here as a petitioner, so let him speak,” the Inquisitor says. “What exactly do you think you could help us with?”

“At least one of you has the sense to ask the right questions before judgment,” and Solas continues before Cullen can reply. “I believe I have a lead pertaining to the dreams the elves are having as of late.”

She visibly winces. “Explain.”

“I can feel the disturbances in the Fade. Old magic is starting to stir once more. Old elven magic in fact.” And that part is actually true. Solas has been feeling it for quite some time now, but to say it was a lead was a bit of a bluff already. Which is why he needs the Inquisition’s resources to confirm it.

With Tabris examining every word and action he made though, he has to be careful.

He can see the Inquisitor weighing her choices. She traces a finger against the cloth covering the maps. “And if I choose to believe you, what does this help cost us?”

“All elves are experiencing the dreams, do we not?” That, was also not a lie.

“So you would have us believe that you’re helping the Inquisition out of altruism and for your own good night’s sleep?” Tabris comments.

“And for yours as well,” Solas retorts. “Believe what you must, but I wager what I have just told is more than what you have uncovered previously.”

The Inquisitor nods. “If somewhat vague.” She inclines her head to her advisers. “What do the rest of you think?”

“Like I said before, there are still a lot of questions he has to answer,” Cullen tells her, a concerned look in his eyes. “You would be taking a huge risk in trusting him, Inquisitor.”

The implied _again_ stings more than he would like to admit.

“But this may be our only chance to discover what is happening. The human-elf conflicts in the cities are already starting to worsen,” Josephine says.

Tabris only advises her, “Just be careful, whichever you choose.”

Her shoulders heave with a sigh, as if the whole world weighed down upon her. It only worsens his guilt. “I’ll have a word with Solas myself.”

“Of course, Inquisitor.”

“ _In private._ ”

The way the all three advisers look at him are anything but trusting. Nonetheless, they exit the room, leaving only him and the Inquisitor.

Ellana.

Time does no justice to dreams and memories. He has nearly forgotten how her eyes are a shade of Fade-green, and how the red of her hair starkly contrasts with it. He has nearly forgotten the determination written into every line of her body, emanating into the entire room. He has nearly forgotten the feel of her because dreams and memories do no justice to her.

But as for everything else, it feels as if he is going to talk to a wall, when he remembered she was more open with others, even as she donned the mantle of Inquisitor. Harden your heart, he told her once, and he cannot afford to do less.

“I just have one question,” Ellana says, looking up from the table, her eyes steely. “Why did you leave?”

There are so many things he could say to answer to that. Oh, he could tell her the truth, tell her he would have stayed if he could but circumstances dictated otherwise, but then what?

Then what?

So he tells her, “Because there was no other reason for me to stay.”

He can see how her mask cracks for a breath, how her eyes squeeze briefly shut. “Is that all you’re going to tell me?”

He breathes deeply. The Dalish call the Dread Wolf a liar after all. “That is all that there is to tell.”

“I—I see.” She composes herself once more. “Commander Cullen and Tabris will be interrogating you after this, I hope you understand.”

Solas gives a perfunctory nod. “I do.”

“Then if nothing else—“ The Inquisitor walks around the table to extend a hand to him. “Welcome back to the Inquisition, Solas.”


	3. Chapter 3

“You know, if you’re gonna make that kind of face at the batter, even the pigeons won’t eat them,” Sera says as she grabs the mixing bowl from Ellana, and proceeds to stir it furiously.

“Sorry about that,” she replies, wincing and then moving to another of the many bowls of batter on the table. She hadn’t even realized that she was making a face… but, yes, she had probably been making a face. No less than three people and Cassandra had already told her that she seemed out of it this morning, and that was just— Dread Wolf take her, why was she being like this?

When Solas showed up that day, she thought she could handle it. Bottle up all the emotions that were threatening to flood out of her. Ask the questions that have lingered for a long time in the back of her mind.

She thought that was all she needed, really. Some sort of closure.

_Because there was no other reason for me to stay._

He had caught her off-guard with that, to say the least. The sudden ache in her chest had taken her words away and she had found that she had to leave the room right then and there.

So much for her plan of asking questions. At least Tabris will do a better job than her.

“Yeah, no, your head’s not really here now, is it? You could just watch if your head’s up in the clouds. I mean, the egghead who dumped you just suddenly shows back up on your doorstep, shifty and obvious like one of Leliana’s nugs, and then you take him back, just like that?” Sera snorts as she shoves a tray into the oven with a clang. “What part of that even makes sense?”

Ellana sits by the table. “I think the world stopped making sense a long time ago,” she says dryly. “Stuff happens, and then we do what we can to fix that.”

“You don’t say? I mean, I’d love all this elfy shite gone from my head, believe me, and you think Egghead can help, Egghead thinks he can help, but what if you’re both wrong and everything goes tits up?”

“We’re doing what we can to prepare for the worst.” She clenches her fists until her nails dig into her palms. It needed to be said, but Ellana doesn’t need to be reminded again about the weight of each decision, the consequence of each action with the vast power of the Inquisition.

But she didn’t go with Sera today to feel somber and sorry for herself. Not caring about subtlety this time, she steers the topic towards something lighter. “So, what are you going to do with those cupcakes?”

Sera raises an eyebrow, but thankfully goes along with it. “Feed ‘em to the pigeons, that’s what. Nah, probably gonna give these to you all and then to those stiff necks on the battlements.”

It her turn to look incredulous. “Just like that?”

“Well, I did think about the good old ‘throw them in your face’ kind of plan. That’s much funnier, but I really didn’t fancy _Madame de Fer_ freezing my ass the last time, thank you very much. So—“ Sera pulls out a steaming tray of chocolate cupcakes, the smell making Ellana’s mouth water. “Want some?”

* * *

Of course Ellana is well aware of the fact that Solas isn’t telling them everything, despite the inner circle thinking she’s been a bit hasty in accepting him into the Inquisition. At best, it just raises suspicion about ulterior motives. At worst, it makes them think that those ulterior motives may be something that would inconvenience them, to say the least.

But Ellana knows he’ll help.

She also knows that she can’t afford to make decisions based on… a gut feeling about her ex-lover, but she knew him once. Solas has always had his own good intentions, even if obscure to most. But now, with Crestwood and the aftermath of Corypheus and now three years between them, she has to wonder if she ever knew him at all.

“In my experience, you don’t get answers if you don’t ask,” Dorian says sagely after she summarizes her problem in a few sentences as he reads _The Tale of the Champion_.

She’s somewhat amazed at his perseverance in reading the same book year after year. The both of them are lounging in the rickety chairs of torchlit cellar surrounded by her collection of bottles, and books that Dorian likes to read ironically. She doesn’t think he’s reading that particular one for the irony though. He’s started reading it more often ever since Josephine made him an unofficial ambassador to Tevinter, complete with the annual trip back to his homeland.

“Yes, well, that’s the problem.” Ellana runs a hand through her hair, her fingers accidentally pulling a few strands free of the tie. “It’s as awkward as it sounds, Dorian.”

“That actually makes me wish I was there to see your faces. But that aside, your advisers and the rest of us have said all we could, and there’s nothing like direct confrontation to break the tension and resolve matters. And better sooner than later,” he adds and leans against her back to angle the book better towards the light.  

Ellana knows that too, but it’s tempting to let her courage fail her this time.

* * *

And as it turns out later that afternoon, either Dorian has uncanny timing or he’s somehow perfected time travel.

It’s after reading Keeper Deshanna’s most recent letter that she realizes her notes aren’t on her desk, nor are they under her bed. So that leaves the library. And Mythal knows she always uses the table at the lowest room of the rotunda when she’s researching or translating. The room Solas has just moved back into.

Well, she thinks as she strides out into the hall, she does need those notes back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \--sorry if my updates are short. i have yet to develop the stamina that authors of 50K oneshots have. :)  
> \--the other companions will appear eventually too!

**Author's Note:**

> a few notes on the world state, just in case it becomes relevant:  
> \- follows queen cousland/female mage hawke who sided with the mages, romanced alistair and fenris respectively  
> -inquisitor Ellana Lavellan, sided with the mages, sacrificed Hawke (rescues her later though, i imagine, with Flemythal's help), let the Grey Wardens stay, reconciled Celene and Briala, drank from the Well, chose Leliana as Divine.  
> -since Leliana is Divine here, i let the new spymaster be Tabris (yes, that Tabris), along with her backstory


End file.
